Storms -v- Barns

 Wisconsin has had record heavy, wet snowfall for the past couple of years.  Just within my drive to town, these storms have taken down 3 barns, 1 loafing shed and 1 garage.  In 1997, we had a tornado touch down on our road.  We are in a bit of a low spot, so the tornado hopped over our barn and hit our neighbor's.  These old barns are falling to lack of upkeep and storms, it's so sad.  So, we invested in our old barn and fixed it up.  I did a blog post about it here:  Barn Remodel and here:  Barn 2.

I mentioned all that to say, I've had dreams of our barn falling down, getting blown over for the past couple of decades.  However, none of these dreams were like the one I had this past week.  I know it holds a meaning or message for me, but maybe you can gain something from my sharing.

In my dream, we were driving home after a storm.  The road to our farm seemed long, like when you learn to draw perspective, our farm was like the tiny square at the end.  As we passed all the other houses, barns and outbuildings on this road (not our actual road) they were just flattened, blown apart boards and rubbish in piles.  As we approached our place, our house had part of the roof missing and then I looked at our barn.  It was how it looks today, red with green metal roof, only there were huge ropes tied to the roof and tethered to the ground.  As we drove past, my dad who no longer is living, waved to me and said "see Dicky Bird, I told you to anchor down your barn."  

Now, my dad was a wealth of information.  He helped Al and I remodel both our homes.  I trusted his advice in all areas of my life.  That is why this sticks out in my mind.  

We all know that life if full of storms.  Things that may blow apart your "home" and leave it in a tangled mess.  Other's you know or love may not weather these storms as well as you.  I can't help but think that my dad was telling me to, even in these upredictible times, to wrap a rope around it and tether it to an anchor.  Family is the ties that bind.  Christ is the rock upon which we build.  Thanks dad for reminding me of this. 

Blessings from Ringle, Wisconsin.